


Glisten

by r0ryy



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Again, Asphyxiation, Birthday Sex, Choking, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Face Slapping, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Royalty, Sexual Roleplay, Throne Sex, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, everyone is trans and no one can stop me, happy birthday ryoma your present is Dick™, i feel like i should give that warning, is that a kink?, kamui is also very much an oc, what kind of alternate title for this mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 19:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0ryy/pseuds/r0ryy
Summary: Ryoma's birthday present is a little elaborate this year, but Kamui doesn't mind.





	Glisten

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing the tradition of writing the spicy for my lobster son on his birthday aka the best day of the year. Please leave comments/kudos/bookmarks/etc bc I will cry. Also I haven't written about vaginas in like two years because I'm a big ace and they scare me so sorry if they don't actually work this way. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

They’d been planning this for weeks.

And that wasn’t Kamui exaggerating again, it really had taken weeks to set up all the necessary spells around the throne room and to procure the tattered prisoner’s clothes she was currently wearing and to ensure that absolutely no one would be disturbing them.

 Kamui was glad she’d started bugging Ryoma about his birthday gift two months in advance. By the time he finally got up the courage to tell her what he really wanted, they’d needed the time to prepare. Not only to be comfortable actually going through with this in such a public place, but to ease into the roleplaying bit as well. It hadn’t been easy, but Kamui was confident that they’d done everything they needed to and that tonight would go over exceptionally well.

She waits outside the giant doors to the throne room for the full five minutes that he’d asked of her, and then a few more just to be safe. Once Kamui feels like it had been long enough, she takes a quick, excited breath and slips back inside.

Ryoma is lounging on the throne where she left him, but now he’s wearing a sheer, red robe that is _indecently_ short, riding up his thighs and fluttering against his skin with the slightest shift of movement. The contrast between the soft, fragile looking fabric and the strong body that it’s barely covering is delectable. Kamui wants to rip it off.

But she doesn’t. She ambles into the room, shifting her wrists so he can hear the manacles that bind her hands together clink behind her back. Kamui makes a show of eyeing up both the room and it’s only other occupant, lingering on the swaths of bared skin and the golden tiara that is gleaming in the low light. She whistles.

“I wasn’t aware Hoshido was home to such impressive views.”

If Ryoma is effected by her less-than-subtle flirting, he doesn’t show it. His posture remains relaxed, almost bored, but his eyes are hard as flint.

“Did I give you permission to speak, prisoner?”

Kamui shrugs, remaining haughtily nonchalant. “Wasn’t aware that I needed it.”

She sees his fingers twitch as he leans forward, almost imperceptibly, and when he speaks again his voice is low, dangerous.

“You would do well to watch your tongue in my presence, lest I decide you no longer have need of it. Do I make myself clear?” Kamui swallows eagerly, already half-hard in her tattered pants.

“Crystal.”

Ryoma makes a pleased noise and settles back into the throne to eye her over, tapping one finger rhythmically against his lips. After a desperately long silence, he speaks.

“Do you know why you are here?”

“Do I have permission to speak now?”

“If you will address me correctly when doing so then yes, for the moment.”

“Mmm.” Kamui licks her lips. “Well in that case, yes, Your Highness, I do know.”

“You thought you could sneak into my castle in the middle of the night and assassinate me while I slept.”

“That would be correct.”

“Did you assume it would just be that easy?”

“Frankly, yes,” she quips, enjoying the way her words make his eyes narrow. “All those squishy morals you preach about made you out to be an easy enough target. And I didn’t think Hoshido’s perfect king was the type to keep prisoners locked up for several days. You seemed more like the forgiveness and mercy type.”

Ryoma’s lips turn up in a smirk and Kamui swears she isn’t going to be able to go through with the rest of this if he keeps looking at her like that.

“Well then, you thought wrong. And your baseless arrogance does you no service. You are nothing more than a common Nohrian dog, straying too far away from your master to be afforded any protection here. Your life is in my hands.” He leans forward and his legs part an imperceptible bit, but it’s enough to have Kamui craning her neck to get a better look. “Now tell me why I shouldn’t end it, right here.”

She puts on a show of being nervous, letting her excited energy quiver out onto her shoulders, into darting eyes, a quick bite of the lip.

“You wouldn’t really do that.” Her voice is unsure. Ryoma cocks his head, eyes glinting.

“Would you like to test that theory?”

“N-not particularly, Your Highness.”

“Wise words, for once. And yet,” he sighs, “you still haven’t given me a reason to not execute you.”

“I can be useful to you,” she blurts, taking half a step forward.

He snorts, derisively. “I have hundreds of assassins at my fingertips, what can your skills amount to next to that? What’s more, I have nations laid at my feet and whatever tenuous political connections you can offer are trivial, at best.”

Kamui, seeing her opening, tries to stop vibrating in excitement.

“There are other ways of being useful, Your Highness,” she murmurs, lowering her gaze and taking a few steps toward him. When Ryoma merely looks at her with a vaguely disdainful expression, she chances a few more, then up the steps of the dais until she is standing just one down from where he is reclining.

She waits there for a moment until Ryoma replies, “Such as?”

“If you’ll be so kind as to let me approach?” Ryoma stares at her for a moment before nodding his head, once, and Kamui walks forward until she is standing directly in front of him. Gods but it’s not fair for anyone to look this good. The contrast between the sheer, red fabric of his robe and his lightly flushed skin and the dark sweep of his hair and the shimmering tiara is enough to make Kamui feel weak.

She drops to her knees, leaning forward towards the slight gap between Ryoma’s thighs.

“Allow me to demonstrate,” she murmurs, looking up at him with heady eyes.

Kamui can almost feel the leap in his pulse, the palpable urge to surrender and spread his legs and let her worm her way between them, like he’d done so many times before, but Ryoma keeps himself in check.

“Interesting tactic,” he comments. “Is this your response to my earlier criticism about your tongue?”

“Trust me, I can do much more than just talk back to you with this tongue.” She licks her lips slow, savoring it. “ _Much_ more.”

Ryoma’s knees fall apart and Kamui can finally get a glimpse at the glistening, freshly shaved flesh in between.

“Prove it.”

She doesn’t need any other encouragement. Kamui scoots forward, almost awkward in her eagerness with her hands still restrained, just as Ryoma leans back in the throne and tilts his hips up to give her better access.

The first contact of her tongue is hard and eager, licking a wide stripe up the length of his slit and making him jerk with its suddenness. He’s practically soaked already and Kamui would grin with the knowledge that their little act had turned him on so much, but she’s too busy pressing forward to suck at his clit to do it. Ryoma moans, quiet and eager, as she really gets to work with her mouth.

Part of Kamui wants to pretend to be sloppy and desperate and unfamiliar with his body, but the other part knows him too well to really go through with it. She knows all the places he likes to be licked and sucked and in what order and how much and when. And because going through with it means that he is quickly arching his back and pushing down into her face, hot and slick against her mouth, she does it.

“Perhaps I’ll find a use for you yet,” he gasps, fingers curling against the arms of the throne as he tips his head back to enjoy it. Kamui’s response is to shove her face further between his thighs and flick her tongue against his clit hard and fast until he is panting and moaning a little with every exhale.

She can’t slake the urge to tease him just a bit, so she pulls back, tongue lightly tracing along his lips, smearing his wetness around, and watching how his thighs jump with the need to feel her deeper, harder. Ryoma only tolerates it for a moment before he growls, one hand fisting in her loose hair and shoving her back down into his cunt.

“I didn’t order you to stop.”

She moans and goes back to lapping eagerly at the slick folds, squirming just enough to feel him tug at her hair again and hold her in place. If Kamui had any pride, she wouldn’t admit to enjoying the rough treatment so much, but as it is, she’s too hungry for him and this haughty, commanding presence to care. She slides down a bit, nearly half her face buried in the warm, inviting flesh as she starts licking her way into his body, occasionally nibbling at his lips a bit, just to hear him hiss and then cry out softly when she goes back to tonguing at his hole.

Kamui hears the beginning of some contemptuous remark forming on his lips, but it stutters into eager, shameless moaning and she can tell that he’s getting close. She redoubles her efforts, mouth going slack and open, trying to please as much of him at one time as she can. Kamui would normally bring him right up to the edge and then back off, again and again, denying Ryoma until he was a whining, begging mess underneath her. But right now, she just wants to hear him, feel him come on her face.

With a needy groan, Kamui sucks his clit back into her mouth, flicking her tongue across it fast and hard until Ryoma’s hips jerk off the throne and he shouts, grinding his hips into her face as he comes. She thinks he could probably suffocate her like this and she wouldn’t even mind.

It’s a long moment before he comes down, relaxing back into the throne with a contented shudder. Ryoma’s hand leaves her hair and Kamui pulls back a little to gasp air back into her lungs, admiring the swollen, glistening mess she’d made of him. The sight of all that pretty, ripe flesh and the aching throb of her cock prove to be far too much of a temptation for her to hold back anymore.

Kamui stands up while he is still panting and recovering, eyes shut, a high flush on his cheeks and down his chest, fingers twitching a little where they are curled against the throne’s armrests. With a quick twist of her arms, and an abrasive little squeal of protest from the metal, she breaks through the shackles binding her hands together. Before Ryoma can realize what’s going on, Kamui slips her cock free from the confines of her tattered pants and slowly drags the head from the bottom of his dripping slit to the top. Her eyes flutter closed and she moans, filthy and indulgent, bracing her hands against the armrests and leaning forward so she can slide the length of her cock up and down between his slick lips.

“And what exactly,” he gasps, grappling for composure, “do you think you’re doing?”

“Couldn’t help myself, Your Highness,” Kamui groans, hunching over his deliciously splayed body and grinning. “Your cunt looked so nice and wet I just had to get a feel of it for myself.”

Ryoma shorts, derisively, but she can see how her words make him blush.

“Well if that’s all you wanted then–”

“Wait, you didn’t really think I was done, did you?” she says with mock indignation, reaching down and rubbing her cockhead against his clit until he has to bite his lip to stifle a moan. “We haven’t even gotten to the main course yet, ba– Your Highness.” Kamui drags her length down until the tip is just outside his entrance, using it to play with the little quivering rim. He bites into one of his fingers to stifle the noise, but Kamui can still hear the little whine that slips out of his throat. She grins.

“So what do you say, Your Highness?”

Ryoma looks at her for a moment, taking in the disheveled hair and ruined clothing and heady, lustful gaze, so eager she’s nearly vibrating for it. He seems to come back to himself, and his mouth turns up in a quick smirk before he moves, draping his long legs over the armrests and leaning back into the throne. Kamui nearly starts salivating at the sight of him so spread open and willing like that.

“Go ahead, dog,” he murmurs. “Show me what you can do,”

Kamui thrusts in hard and deep and selfish, tipping her head back and keening delightedly when her cock is buried in wet, silken heat all the way down to the base.

“Aaahh, fuck that’s good,” she groans, grinding her hips into him and snapping her head back up to watch the way his mouth twists in pleasurable surprise. Her hair falls over one shoulder as she cocks her head, grinning down at him. “Yeah, you like that don’t you? Nice and thick, stretching you open like that.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” Ryoma huffs, still managing to look dignified, despite being splayed out so indecently on his own throne, and the challenge of breaking that careful composure hangs, tempting and juicy, over Kamui’s head.

“Why, Your Highness, I’m insulted,” she says, bracing her hands above his knees on the armrests and leaning over him. Kamui angles her hips down to give him the kind of pressure on his clit that she knows he loves and keeps rubbing against him, slowly, savoring the way some of his slick trickles out around her cock. She clucks her tongue disapprovingly. “So quick to judge.”

Before Ryoma can reply, Kamui pulls out and then thrusts back in, a slow, hard roll of her hips that is quickly followed by another and another and another, until she’s gotten a good rhythm going. It’s the kind that lets him feel every inch of her from tip to root as she works him open, bottoming out occasionally and grinding their hips together just to watch him squirm.

Kamui would have been content to fuck him slow like that all night, but Ryoma has other plans. She feels his hand suddenly tangle in her hair and force her head back, fingers tugging at the purple strands and sending a pleasurable jolt down to her cock.

“Faster.” His voice is sharp, commanding, and it sends shivers up her spine.

“Yes sir,” she mumbles enthusiastically, speeding up their pace and occasionally fighting his grip just to feel him yank on her hair again. Kamui moans eagerly at the rough treatment.

“Disgusting.” She hears him scoff, and it only serves to stoke the fire burning in her stomach. Kamui rolls her head to the side to look down at him, the way his plump chest is flushed and his eyes are heavy with pleasure and his lips are stretched wide around her cock, driving hard and fast into his body.

“Oh baby you’ve got no idea.”

 He yanks at her hair again and snarls, “Have you forgotten how to address me?”

“No, not really.”

“Then say it.”

Oh, she could, but Kamui wants to _push_.

In one quick motion, she reaches down and grabs two fistfuls of Ryoma’s robe and rips it open, tearing the sheer fabric all the way down so that he’s completely exposed. She grins lasciviously down at all that thick, exposed muscle and –

Kamui registers a sharp, powerful impact on her face and her vision blacks out for a second as her head snaps to the side. There is a brief moment of clarity where she realizes that Ryoma _backhanded_ her and then her eyes nearly roll back and she moans, loud and ecstatic and with reckless abandon. The pain is throbbing in her face and throbbing in her cock and she thinks she could come right now, _right fucking now_.

“Oh fuck, baby,” she slurs, slumping forward and jerking her hips back so that she won’t finish too early. Kamui feels a hand lightly brush the side of her face before it slowly trails down to her neck. Ryoma’s strong fingers wrap around her throat and, with just the barest amount of pressure, he _squeezes_ and she nearly comes undone again.

“Aaahh shit, yeah,” she chokes, surging forward into his hand, into his cunt, and a hot wave of pleasure rushes through her body, running up her spine and making her shake. “Fuck yeah, just like that, treat me bad, baby.” The last word is punched out of her in a long, broken exhale as she thrusts in again. 

It doesn’t take them long to get back to their previous rhythm and Kamui is soon fucking hard and fast into the tight, wet clutch of his body. Ryoma’s loud, breathy groans and the obscene sound of their skin slapping together echo around in Kamui’s head in an impossibly erotic cacophony. Fuck, he’s so wet it’s dripping down onto the throne and he feels so _good_ , clenching and throbbing around her, all slick, swollen flesh and eager noises and this gorgeous blush that paints its way down his chest and his face screwed up in pleasure like that and his hand pressing up into her windpipe until her eyes turn glassy and she is wheezing for breath.

Kamui doesn’t realize that her mouth had been hanging open until Ryoma jerks up and gasps, “Are you…drooling on me?” Kamui actually laughs a little, breathlessly, when she realizes that yeah, she kind of is. She just shoots him a blissed-out, lecherous smile, her tongue still hanging halfway out of her mouth.

“Bet you like it.”  

“Disgusting.” His grip tightens around her throat again and Kamui swears she sees stars. She knows that no amount of willpower can make her last much longer, so she reaches down between them, trying to rub his clit, but her fingers are going numb and she’s really giving just him something to grind against more than anything else.

“Fuck, baby you’re dripping,” she rasps. “Shit, aaahh lemmie come. Lemmie come Y-Your Highness, aaahh fuck!”

Ryoma’s hand clamps down around her neck and Kamui’s airway shuts off completely and her entire body convulses. It’s his quiet, whimpered “ _Fuck_.” sends her over the edge, hunching over him and grinding their hips together as she rides over the hot, pulsing waves, feeling his muscles clamp down and milk her dry, listening to him cry out his own release. She would have screamed if there was any room in her throat to do it.  

Kamui tries not to collapse on top of him once it’s over, but after Ryoma releases her neck and she gets a few good gulps of air back into her lungs, his arms come up around her and pull her down anyways. They spend a few good minutes like that, slotted together and catching their breath. Kamui shifts her hips enough to pull out of him. Ryoma shudders a bit and she can feel their slick mess leaking out onto her hand. She’s just vindictive enough to play with it a little, smearing it onto his lips until he reaches down and pulls her hand away with a tired groan.

“Not yet, too soon.”

“Aww, what happened to all that lordly stamina?” she mumbles, looking back up at him and sucking the wetness off her fingers. Ryoma ignores her question and traces the back of his hand gently across her cheek.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”  

“You nearly made me come on the spot is what you did.”

“Still, that looks like it’s going to leave a bruise. You might need to see Sakura or–”

Kamui laughs. “Do you really want me explaining this one to her? I get bruises all the time, I’ll deal with it. Besides,” she sighs letting her head loll to the side on his chest, “I was totally in to it.”

She can feel him chuckle and it makes her whole body feel a little warmer. “Yes, I suppose you were.”

Despite his words, she feels the soothing coolness of a little healing magic pass from Ryoma’s palm into her cheek, just enough to ease the dull ache that had settled there. She smiles.

“Sap.”

Ryoma presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Bet you like it.”

Kamui tilts her head up to return the favor, smiling against his lips.

“Happy birthday, by the way.”


End file.
